Windowsill

If I'd fit on the windowsill

I'd plant myself in your direction

I would use the sun's energy

To make this place your destination

How dare I hate this space I occupy

I'm left to my devices

Turning to the light

I'm waiting for the cue

To beckon to the shoot

And break the crust upon the soil

Lack of light the iris expands

My eyes absorb a power coming

From beyond my dim room

In my den amber and damp

As if lit up by faith alone

I've been more faithful than you know